


In a time of peace

by A_Daciana



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28105332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Daciana/pseuds/A_Daciana
Summary: It wasn’t Arthur’s fault, or Gwen’s, or anyone’s really. It was just the way things went.Time has passed since the battle of Camlann, and Merlin still hasn't found a way to tell Arthur about his magic. Albion is united, the land is at peace, the threats are mostly gone, Arthur's busy being king, Gwen's busy being queen, and, well, there's not really much need for Emrys anymore.(Alternative ending where Arthur survives Camlann)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn’t Arthur’s fault, or Gwen’s, or anyone’s really. It was just the way things went. Arthur was busy now, being king placed more demands on his time. Not that he’d ever been lazy as a prince, but there were still more chances to be a little bit carefree, to joke around with Merlin and go out hunting. Now he spent most of his time in meetings and councils, making decrees and signing peace treaties in his quest to unite the lands of Albion, and Merlin was damn proud of him for doing so. All the same, he missed the friendship, their easy banter, the rough and tumble of ill-considered quests. Time had passed, and magic was legalised. He hadn’t had the heart to tell Arthur in the end. The gratitude he’d been given for saving Arthur from Mordred - he can still almost taste the tears falling in his mouth as he appears, seemingly from nowhere and runs Mordred through, realising for the first time perhaps that Mordred was as much an innocent tool of destiny as anyone else, though stuff that, destiny could hang itself as far as Merlin was concerned. Well, maybe not, but still. It could at least go take a good hard look at itself in the mirror.

Anyway, he’s becoming distracted.

The gratitude he’d been given for saving Arthur from Mordred had almost been enough, and he just hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of Arthur’s disappointment that he’d lied to him all these years. Oh, he still was going to tell him, eventually, but it just never seemed the right time. And then magic was legalised, court sorcerers appointed, and still Merlin hadn’t told him. Then Gaius had passed. Merlin still teared up at the thought of the old court physician. They’d given him a small funeral in the end, Gaius would have preferred it that way, just Merlin and Arthur and Gwen, the knights and a few of the people of the town and castle Gaius had known well. And still Merlin hadn’t told Arthur.

Then they started drifting apart. It wasn’t intentional, and as he’d said, it wasn’t really anyone’s fault. It was just the way things went. Arthur and Gwen were busy, and they were royalty. For all Merlin was a friend, and for all he’d saved Arthur’s life (on numerous occasions no less), he was still a servant. They were still friends of course, but gone were the days when Arthur would groan in the mornings to be given more sleep, or give Merlin sardonic looks at his well-intentioned (and often right, Merlin might add) advice. Now he had Gwen to discuss the days and to reason out his troubles with. On the rare occasion that they journeyed out of the castle, the court sorcerers could protect Arthur where Merlin’s magic once had, and besides, it was harder to use his abilities secretly with other magic users present and attentive. He found himself sneaking out more and more, sitting alone in the woods, shaping smoke and fire into various plants and creatures, talking with the animals. He still had Gwaine and the knights, but even there, Camelot was peaceful now, and the need for war and quests was fewer. Besides, Arthur rarely went on them, busy as he was with ruling the kingdom, so Merlin saw the knights less too, and to them also, he was relegated - not intentionally, and no one had forgotten the things he’d done - but even so, he was relegated more and more to the role of servant. Friendly servant, certainly. But nonetheless a servant.

Of course, he could have just told Arthur. He still could. He sighs and places down the laundry basket. Trying not to think about how many times he’s carried out this same task. Well, he still could but somehow he couldn’t quite see the point. Oh, it would be great for Merlin. Recognition, Arthur knowing who he truly was, probably a position in court. He would be lying to say it wasn’t tempting. Yet when he saw the expression on Arthur’s face sometimes, the wistful longing for pleasant days of boyhood adventure and foolish quests, before the responsibility of being king and maintaining peace had landed squarely on his shoulders, he knew that it was selfish. They had achieved all that Merlin had hoped for. Magic was legal, Albion was united, Gwen and Arthur were a benevolent king and queen, and the people were well cared for, well established, well protected, and well fed. Sorcerers and druids practised openly without fear, and the threats to the kingdom had grown so few in number that Merlin could count on one hand the number of times he’s had to use magic in the last two years, and even then, he probably could have left it to Arthur and his sorcerers’ own devices. Telling Arthur now would throw a shadow on all those years of friendship, the years when Arthur was a prince and they would banter and quest and he would complain of Merlin’s clumsiness and cowardice but also, quietly, and sometimes, usually when under threat of death, out loud, admire his bravery. Arthur needed those memories.

He sighs again, scrubbing at one of Arthur’s tunics. It was time, he knew it was time. He’d been putting this off long enough, maybe hoping things would change, or his magic would be revealed by accident - the coward’s way out, he thinks ruefully. The truth of it though, is that Arthur doesn’t need him anymore. Camelot doesn’t need him anymore. Merlin is free to go and do as he pleases, and somewhere out there, Freya is waiting for him.

“I’ve taken long enough to let go.” He mutters.

“What was that?” One of the serving girls, Anna, looks up at him in confusion.

He just shakes his head and gives a little gesture. “Oh nothing, just talking to myself.”

He gives her a weak smile, which she returns, then continues on with the task and his musings.

Eventually he makes his way to Arthur’s chambers, a basket of fresh laundry under his arm, and his resolve steeled within himself. Arthur would probably be in there, he knew there was a break in his schedule for about an hour. Time enough to polish up some speeches and maybe take a moment or two to relax to himself before the next council.

“Merlin.” Arthur looks up, sure enough from his desk with a quill in hand, as Merlin enters.

“Sire.” He holds up the laundry basket by way of explanation and makes his way to the closet.

Arthur continues working on his speech as Merlin hangs the tunics, brushing them down to prevent wrinkles. He turns to find the king lowering his quill and looking at him.

“You’re awfully quiet today.”

Ah, less oblivious to Merlin’s mood than he thought. He sighs and hangs the last of the tunics, leaving the empty wash basket as he goes to stand a bit back from Arthur’s desk. Well, he had to say it eventually.

“Arthur, there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

He sees Arthur’s eyes become more focused, the quill now put to rest entirely on his desk.

“Yes, what is it Merlin?”

He swallows, for a moment tempted to blurt out ‘I have magic, I’ve had it all this time. Want to know how many of those magical beasts I’ve saved you from?’

“I’m leaving Camelot.”

“What?” Arthur looks incredulous now. “You can’t be serious.”

Merlin keeps his eyes on the desk, swallows again and just nods. “I am.”

“Why?” Arthur spreads out his hands, and if Merlin hadn’t been so close to tears he’d probably have laughed at the look of utter confusion on his face. “I thought you said you’d be happy to be my servant till the day you died.”

He had said that. He nods again, trying to look at Arthur but finding his eyes glued to a certain bottle of ink on the desk.

“I did, and I am Arthur. But,” he manages to look up and make eye contact, trying to keep his eyes from watering. Damn this was harder than he’d thought. “you don’t need me anymore Arthur.”

“What? Of course I do. We might not go on as many quests anymore but I still need a servant.”

Despite himself, Merlin grins, “Well yes, I know that sire. I’ve seen you try to dress yourself.” He becomes more serious again, “But that’s the thing Arthur, you need a servant. You don’t need any servant in particular.”

“I don’t know where this is coming from Merlin. Despite what you seem to think, I’ve never needed any servant in particular.” Merlin feels the sigh building in his throat, but Arthur continues. “It’s true you’ve been... More of a friend than a servant. And you’ve saved my life on a few occasions-”

“Many occasions.”

“A few.” Arthur gives him a stern stare, but there’s warmth behind it, “But Merlin, that doesn’t change things now that I’m king.”

It does though. Merlin just doesn’t know how to tell him that. He watches as Arthur scrubs the back of his neck with his hand, seeming at a loss for what to say. Something about Arthur being as lost as he is helps, and he takes a step forward.

“Arthur.” The king looks up at him. “I said before that I’m happy to be your servant till the day I die, and I meant that, I still mean that. If you want me to stay, I will. You just have to ask and I’ll be happy to spend the rest of my days in Camelot. But,” he spreads his hands plaintively, “Arthur you don’t need me anymore. You have become the great king I always said you would be. You’ve united the lands of Albion. You’ve made a kingdom where anyone can feel safe and welcomed, no matter their lineage or profession, so long as they cause no harm to others. You have a beautiful and generous queen, noble and loyal knights, and grateful and honest people.” He smiles at Arthur, feeling pride shining in his eyes, “You’ve become everything you were ever meant to be. I’m proud of you Arthur. I know my word is just that of a servant,”

He’s cut off by Arthur raising a hand. “We both know you’ve always been more than just a servant Merlin.” He says softly. “You’re a friend, and you’re right, you’ve always believed in me, always told me these things... You and Guinevere were the few who treated me like a person, not a prince. It... Thank you, it means a lot to hear you say that.”

Wow, Gwen has really done wonders for Arthur’s emotional expression. Mind you, Merlin has known that for some years now. He nods, somewhat awkwardly.

“Why do you want to leave? If it’s about money I can...”

“No no,” Merlin shakes his head. “It’s not about money Arthur.”

Arthur sighs, “Well, what is it? Do you want more of a position? I know you’re court physician but I can make more of a title for you if you’d like.”

“No it’s not about that either.” He sighs and smiles wistfully, thinking of Freya and the the lake of Avalon, of building a small home where they can practice magic in peace and he can make her strawberries - real ones this time. “Arthur, you don’t” He holds up a hand as Arthur opens his mouth to protest, and surprisingly, despite looking affronted that Merlin has the audacity to hold up a hand to his king (though honestly, Arthur should be used to it by this point), he shuts his mouth and listens. “Arthur you don’t need me anymore.” He relaxes and feels himself becoming more confident. It’s true after all. “And, I meant what I said. If you want me to stay, I will. You just have to say the word. But there’s... Well there’s a life waiting for me out there Arthur,” he smiles, “a beautiful life, a really properly beautiful life. And a girl and well...” He trails off, scuffing his boot a bit.

“A girl? I never knew you had a girl.”

Merlin shrugs. “She lives a long way from here.”

Arthur looks surprised, then raises an eyebrow and seems to take it in his stride. “Is she beautiful?”

Merlin feels a grin breaking through. “Otherworldly, sire.”

Arthur gives a smile and claps him on the shoulder. “Well, good for you Merlin.” Then he sighs and steeples his hands. “You can’t convince her to come here?”

“I’m afraid not sire.”

“Please, stop with the sire Merlin, we both know you dispensed with respecting me long ago.”

“I wasn’t aware I ever started.”

Arthur gives him a glare and throws a goblet at him half-heartedly. They both laugh, feeling for a moment the return to boyish days before they’d all been weighed under by responsibility. Then Arthur becomes serious again.

“Who’s going to be court physician if you leave?”

Merlin feels tension leave his body, replaced only by a soft, bittersweet regret. The protest is weak and he knows, Arthur is going to let him go.  


“I’ve been training up Reagon for some time, he’ll be a fine replacement.”

Arthur nods, looking lost again.

“I’m going to miss you Merlin.” Again, that genuine honesty that Arthur brings out every now and then. Merlin should be used to it by now, but he still always finds it a bit disarming.

“I’ll miss you too Arthur.”

He means it, he really really means it. They stand there in awkward silence for a bit.

“You just have to say the word Arthur.”

He looks like he’s tempted for a moment. Then he shakes his head.

“I couldn’t do that to you Merlin.”

Merlin nods, relieved and disappointed all at once.

“Thank you.”

“You’ll come back to visit I hope.”

Merlin nods, feeling his chest tighten.

“When will you leave?”

“Tomorrow, at first light. I’ve a list of servants to replace me, they’ll rotate for a week or so until you choose someone you like.”

“You don’t have to go straight away you know, you could always stay a few more weeks.”

“I think it’s best this way sire.”

Arthur nods, looking down at the abandoned speech. “I suppose you’re right.”

Merlin nods as well, and picks up the empty laundry basket. “Is there anything else I can do for you sire?”

Arthur shakes his head, “No, that’s all Merlin.” He’s almost out the door when Arthur speaks up again. “Wait, Merlin.”

“Yes Arthur?”

“I just- thank you, for everything.”

Merlin feels warmth spreading through his chest. “You’re welcome Arthur.” From the bottom of my heart.

  


The rest of the afternoon is filled with organising and tearful farewells. Gwaine in particular seems at an absolute loss.

“Is it something I said Merlin? I’ll stop trying to drag you to the tavern. I’ll even stop getting you to send Arthur the bills.”

Despite himself Merlin laughs. “I’m going to miss you Gwaine.”

“So it’s not something I said?”

Merlin rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “I’ve got a girl waiting for me.”

He figured that would get through to the knight, and sure enough Gwaine’s eyes go wide. “Well, good for you Merlin, good for you.”

He sighs and draws Merlin in for a bear hug. “You better come back and visit you know.”

“Of course.” Again, his chest tightens. Well, maybe he could come back. Just every now and then.

“I’ve never forgotten I owe all this to you Merlin.”

Merlin shrugged, “Well someone had to get you somewhere other than a tavern.”

They both end up laughing, and Merlin can’t help feeling a twinge of sorrow.

His farewells with the rest of the knights are also heartfelt, though more formal. He’s surprised when Leon of all people seems almost about to cry at the news. Instead he clasps Merlin on the arm, reminiscent of Arthur, and wishes him all the best. Strangely, all of them thank him, really sincerely. He feels the empty sorrow pulling at his chest again, a slight whisper of doubt that maybe he could stay, but he knows it’s time. So he answers them with equal sincerity, with similar hugs and slaps to the shoulders.

His farewell to Gwen is also sincere. They’ve drifted apart since she became queen, but even so their friendship is still there, and for a moment it’s like they return to the people they were when they first met, a thoughtful but outspoken peasant boy and a gentle but accidentally outspoken serving girl.

“Thank you Merlin,” she says this quite sincerely, looking into his eyes unflinchingly, “for everything. I know we don’t speak as much anymore but... But I’ve never forgotten everything you’ve done for me, for Arthur, for all of us over the years.” She blinks back tears, “You were always so brave and good-hearted.” For a moment her expression changes and he sees the old Gwen reappearing, “Which is not to say you aren’t now, I mean, of course you’re still brave and good-hearted-”

He laughs and gives her a hug, surprised at the amount of thanks he’s been getting from people who don’t even know half of what he’s done. “You are too Gwen, you always have been. I couldn’t imagine a better queen for Arthur.”

They smile at each other through watery eyes.

  


The next day Merlin leaves at dawn, a small party stands outside the castle to see him off. Arthur, dressed finely in all his armour as though Merlin were an ambassador from a fellow kingdom. Beside him Gwen and the knights, Gwen biting back tears and Gwaine manfully pretending his own eyes aren’t filling up. He nods to them all and feels one final pang, there was still time to change his mind. He smiles and waves, and with that, Camelot is left behind, the shining glory of Albion standing before its fortress, and somewhere across the horizon, Freya is waiting for him.


	2. Chapter 2

“Good morning your majesties.” The servant gives a sweeping bow as Arthur raises his arm to block out the sunlight. “Would you care for your breakfast at the table or in bed this morning?”

“Oh, at the table thank you Edward.” Gwen, clearly more awake than him, replies.

The servant bows and begins setting up their meal. It’s been three years since Merlin left, and still he can’t help finding it strange having anyone else wake them in the morning. True to his word, Merlin had provided a wide selection of servants for Arthur to choose from. In truth, part of the reason he’d chosen Edward was because he was almost the total opposite of Merlin, and for some reason Arthur had thought that would make things easier.

“I’ve packed your supplies and readied your horses sire.”

“Thank you Edward.”

“Are you quite sure you don’t want me to come Arthur?”

He smiles at Gwen, “Yes, it’s a long journey to Mercia, I need someone I trust to mind the kingdom in my absence.”

Gwen nods and gives him a small smile.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He promises.

  


The journey was indeed long, Arthur thought ruefully, as they continued making their way across the landscape. He’d become rather de-conditioned over the years, no longer spending so much time out on quests or in the horses’ saddle.

“How much further to go, Sir Leon?”

“About two more days travel sire.” He seems to take note of his king’s weariness with empathy, “There’s reported to be a lake near here we might be able to stop at for the night, it seems a good place to rest.”

Arthur nods. That does sound rather pleasant. “Let’s make camp there.”

Sir Leon nods, riding over to talk to one of the other knights and work out the plan. Gwaine makes his way up to Arthur’s side and Arthur feels an inward groan as he prepares for a stream of non-stop verbiage.

“Sir Leon says we’re stopping at Lake Avalon.”

“Yes.” Arthur replies, “It sounded like a pleasant spot to make camp.”

“I seem to remember Merlin talking about Lake Avalon a bit.”

Arthur looks across at him sharply. They don’t really talk about Merlin much. He’s not sure why. Too painful maybe.

“Did he now?”

Gwaine nodded. “Always got a special sparkle in his eye when he mentioned it.”

Arthur feels a bit disgruntled. He can’t remember Merlin ever mentioning Lake Avalon to _him_. Let alone getting a special sparkle in his eye. Gwaine keeps on blathering for a bit, but eventually seems to pick up that Arthur isn’t interested, and drops his horse back to blather at Sir Percival instead, who seems to have a lot more patience for that sort of thing.

Arthur’s mood continues for the rest of the ride. Despite what he pretends, he does miss Merlin. They had a special sort of friendship, and that kind of thing didn’t come along every day. Admittedly, there were times when he’d wished he’d asked him to stay, but then he thought of Merlin saying things like “otherworldly” and “properly beautiful” and realised that it would have been selfish and unfair. Still, what could he say. He missed him. He loved Gwen. He had good friendships with the knights. Edward was by far a better servant than Merlin had ever been. Merlin had trained Reagon well. All the same, it wasn’t, well, it wasn’t the same.  
Leon rides back up to his side. “We’re almost there my lord, once we reach these ruins here,” he gestures to a point on the map, then forward to where Arthur can dimly make out the outline of a crumbled tower on the horizon, “we turn right and travel about three quarters of a mile.”

Arthur nods. “Thank you Leon.”

“Of course, sire.” He hesitates for a moment. “Forgive me for asking sire, are you alright?”

“What? Oh, oh yes. Sorry, just have something on my mind.”

Leon nods and smiles sympathetically, but doesn’t say anything further. Arthur has the uncomfortable feeling Leon knows exactly what he’s been thinking about. 

  


They’re almost at the lake when Arthur hears it. He holds up a hand and the knights around him bring their horses to a standstill in silence. Sure enough, it rings out again. Arthur can scarcely believe it, it must just be because he’s been thinking about Merlin recently but that laugh sounds heart-breakingly familiar. He looks back to find the other knights looking similarly astounded. Well, at least the ones who had known Merlin well enough to recognise that laugh. Gwaine has a foolish grin on his face, looking for all the world like some overgrown puppy. Leon also smiles, looking a little too self-assured for Arthur’s liking. Had he led them here on purpose?

Before his mind can jump to further conclusions, Arthur dismounts and makes his way forward quietly, the knights following suit. Sure enough, when they reach the edge of the forest, the lake of Avalon stretches out before them and there, on the shore in the vibrant grass, stands Merlin, laughing as a couple of children run about his feet, giggling and shouting up at him. Behind him, a beautiful woman - Arthur can safely say Merlin was not joking about the otherwordliness, was she shining? - smiles at them, her hand covering her mouth as she laughs at their attempts to persuade Merlin. And Arthur can scarcely believe it’s Merlin. A long way away he’d said. Arthur had always assumed it had been someone from Ealdor. Imagined Merlin with a little farm, a few chickens, some sheep, that sort of thing. There’s a small cottage too, smoke making its way merrily up from the chimney.

“Oh very well.” He hears Merlin say through laughter, and, as he watches in astonishment, Merlin reaches out his hand and pronounces something in a language Arthur doesn’t recognise. He feels his eyebrows lift as the smoke pouring out of the chimney shapes itself into various creatures, a dragon, a horse, a great bird, racing and chasing each other through the air. Then Merlin begins doing other things, twisting his hands about as in them flowers and butterflies begin to twist and grow and the children laugh and clap in delight. He turns to see the knights looking similarly astounded - Elyan’s mouth is practically agape - though he frowns at Gwaine’s grin, which seems as though he’s just confirmed a long-held suspicion. He turns back to where Merlin is now buried beneath the eager children, laughing as about them Merlin’s magic (because that wasn’t at all weird to think. Since when had Merlin had magic?) well Merlin’s magic creations frolic, because well, there’s not really any better word for what they’re doing. Once again Merlin’s words come to mind. Properly beautiful. Begrudgingly, he takes in the creatures of smoke and the butterflies and shimmering plants, presided over by the gentle and ethereal lady. Merlin wasn’t wrong.

“Did any of you know about this?” He hisses, looking to the knights.

They shake their heads, though he notices Gwaine and Leon have their eyes on the ground.

“I ah,” Leon scratches his head. “That is, I had my suspicions, my lord.”

Gwaine nods. “Merlin always did manage to do impossible things.”

“Like befriend you.” Arthur turns his gaze to Percival, somewhat surprised that he, of all people, has chosen to insult Gwaine. The knight drops his smug smile and looks slightly ashamed. “I had a few suspicions too, we always did have very good luck when Merlin was with us.”

“And none of you ever saw fit to tell me?”

They shrug, having the grace to look a bit abashed.

“We figured you knew sire.” Leon volunteers.

“You did spend more time with him than any of us.” Gwaine pointed out.

Arthur glared at him, feeling that was rather an attack on his observational skills.

He’s about to snap at them again when he realises the best person to talk to about this is probably the one standing down there practising magic. With a huff and a few muttered complaints, he rises fully.

“Well, I guess we had better go say hello.”

“If you intend on harming him-” He hears Gwaine, an unfamiliar serious tone to his voice.

“Oh relax Gwaine,” he snaps back, “I just want to talk.”

Gwaine doesn’t look convinced, but Arthur doesn’t have time to worry about that just now. This is Merlin. Merlin living by a lake with some sort of supernatural being and practising magic while being tackled by children. He feels like he should be a lot more surprised than he is. Also, butterflies Merlin? Really?  
He tries to think of what to say, making his way down from the forest line to where Merlin stands, completely oblivious to the incoming party. The woman notices it before Merlin does, her smile draining to an expression of concern.

“Merlin.” He looks up, smiling at her voice, then his expression changes as he sees her face, turning back to where Arthur and the knights are coming towards them.

Merlin stands, his face a strange amalgam of joy, guilt, and, yes Arthur has recognised that right, fear.

“Arthur.” He sounds caught out and surprised, like he did those times when Arthur had caught him as a servant in some place he wasn’t supposed to be. Which, well it was starting to make sense why that had happened so often. Merlin’s expression turns into a crooked grin. “Er, welcome to Lake Avalon?”

“Merlin.” He says, because really, what else can he say. Part of him wants to rush over and hug his servant, the other part to hold him by the scruff of his shirt and demand to know how long he’s been practising magic and why did he never say anything to Arthur about it all this time? Another part just wants to drawl out something casual, cool and relaxed, like the Arthur he always used to want Merlin to think he was.

Before he can do any of those things, Gwaine rushes past him, engulfing Merlin in a giant bear hug.

“I knew it! I knew you had magic. You sneaking little-” He laughs, pulling apart to stare at Merlin, then engulfing him again, “How come you never came back to visit?”

Merlin laughs, eventually freeing himself from Gwaine’s embrace. “It ah, it just never seemed quite the right time.” He scratches the back of his neck apologetically. Then gives Gwaine a little grin. “It’s good to see you again Gwaine.”

One by one, the knights go up and clasp Merlin across the shoulders, giving him hugs or saying something about how good it is to see him, how astonishing it is that he has magic etc. etc. Merlin takes all their well wishes in his stride, and Arthur can see he’s chuffed if a little flustered at all the attention. Then he seems to remember the woman behind him.

“Oh! Freya. Everyone, this is Freya, my ah, well, my wife I suppose.” He grins and her and she smiles back at him proudly, he ducks his head with a little blush. “Freya this is everyone.”

Gwaine laughs, “Ah yes, she’ll certainly remember us now.” Then he looks at Freya appreciatively, “Damn Merlin, I don’t want to say you’re aiming out of your league but...”

Merlin laughs, “Thanks Gwaine.”

Then he makes eye contact with Arthur, and his expression becomes a more serious. There’s an apology there, but a defiance also. How typically Merlin, he thinks.

“Merlin.” Merlin swallows and nods. “I think we need to talk.”

“Yes.” Merlin shuffles his boots and scratches the back of his neck again, “I ah, I suppose we do.”

“If you hurt him...” Arthur is about to snap back at Gwaine when Merlin cuts him off with a grin.

“Oh it’s okay Gwaine, I’m not afraid of Arthur. I can handle him.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Merlin grins, tentatively, but a grin all the same, “All due respect sire, if I can handle washing your socks for over ten years, I think I’ve taken about the worst you can throw at me.”

Arthur scowls as Gwaine laughs. Why was it he had missed Merlin again?

They leave the knights chatting to Freya and make their way a bit further down, to where the forest meets the edge of the lake. Merlin sits on a fallen log and Arthur follows suit.

“So,” he says, not really sure where to start. “You have magic.”

Well, that was one way.

“Ah, yeah.” Merlin rubs his neck and gives him a little grin. “Yeah I do.”

Arthur sighs. “How long Merlin?”

“What?”

“How long have you had magic?”

“Oh um. From birth?” Guilt flashes across his face and Arthur isn’t really sure how to respond to this.

“Huh.”

Merlin just gulps and nods.

“So all this time...”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.”

“Please say something more than ‘huh’, Arthur.”

“I’m just trying to process this. So... All those times-”

Merlin nods.

“Huh.”

He feels the frustration coming off Merlin. But well, darn it he also sort of felt like Merlin deserved it. Mind you, he also felt slightly guilty, thinking of the way he’d treated Merlin all those years, the things he’d said about magic.

“Why did you never tell me?”

Merlin sighs, pulling at the bark of the tree and twisting it in his hands.

“It just never seemed the right time.”

Arthur tries to process this. “You had twelve years Merlin. And it never seemed the right time?”

Merlin sighs, shutting his eyes tightly, then opening them to look out over the misty water.

“I wanted to Arthur. I really wanted to. I mean, do you know what it’s like, to have your best friend think you’re a complete idiot? To save your life time and time again only for you to think I was a fool while others took the credit? Or hell, to not be able to tell your friend who you really are because you’re afraid they’ll have to choose between you and their father? To have all this power and... And to be nothing but a stupid serving boy.”

Arthur feels a bit abashed at that, though he’s not ready to forgive Merlin yet.

“You weren’t just a stupid serving boy.”

Merlin laughs.

“Well okay, not always.”

“It’s okay Arthur. I don’t mind so much now. It’s strange, the older I got, the more... Well the more I was okay with being a servant. I don’t know.” He shrugs, “Maybe I got used to it. In some ways it was nice, pretending to be just a normal person. Besides,” he smiles at Arthur, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of in being servant to a good king.”

“I treated you rather horribly at times.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow and nods, “Good to see you haven’t lost your taste for understatement.”

Despite himself Arthur cuffs him around the back of the head. It’s just so easy to fall into these patterns with Merlin. To his surprise, Merlin ducks and glares at 

him, though there’s humour beneath it.

“You promised Gwaine you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I’m not afraid of Gwaine.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow again, it always reminded Arthur of Gaius the way he did that. Despite their differences, the physician had managed to make his imprint on his prodigy.

“I’m not.” He insists.

“If you say so.” Merlin grins. They lapse back into seriousness. Arthur realises something in what Merlin said.

“You didn’t want to make me choose between you and my father.”

Merlin looks at him and nods slowly.

“That’s what you were worried about?”

Merlin shrugs. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Arthur shakes his head. Of all the self-sacrificing...

“Why didn’t you say something, after he was gone, when magic was legalised?”

Merlin shrugs again, “It just-”

“If you’re about to say it was never the right time I may end up fighting Gwaine.”

Merlin huffs out a laugh. “I intended to. I really did. But... I don’t know, things changed Arthur. My magic... I mean, me, the whole reason for me was to protect you, to bring about the age of Albion and then, well, we were there. And I thought I could tell you then but... I didn’t want it to change, all those years of friendship, I thought maybe you needed them and... I would have hated for you to lose them thinking I’d lied to you, that whole time. I guess... I realised that if I told you, it would just be for me, you know? And it would only cause you pain. I mean, I know you would have forgiven me eventually but... Well, I wanted you to have those carefree times I suppose. Without it being clouded by the thought, that well...”

“My best friend was a sorcerer who lied to me that whole time.”

Merlin nods, looking small and quiet and guilty.

Arthur sighs.

“I don’t know what to do with this Merlin.”

Merlin looks at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s very noble of you.”

Despite everything Merlin laughs, “Can I get that in writing?”

“But I do wish you’d told me.”

“I’m sorry Arthur.”

“Is that why you left?”

Merlin shrugs, looking out over the lake again. “Partly. I guess... I was happy serving you Arthur, truly I was. But... I don’t know, you must have noticed, things had changed. You... Like I said you didn’t need me anymore and well, Freya was waiting and,” Merlin sighs, “I don’t know, maybe it was selfish, but I was tired of hiding and well...” He looks sideways at the ground, “I was lonely Arthur. After Lancelot, and Gaius, there was no one else who knew. And everyone was busy with official duties and we didn’t go questing with the knights as much it just seemed... Well, it seemed like it was time.”

Arthur’s throat feels dry. He just nods. Merlin was right after all, things had changed. Arthur hadn’t wanted to notice it, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t. That he and Merlin hadn’t bantered as much as they used to, that they no longer went for quests or ended up having unintentional heart to hearts. That Merlin hadn’t needed to give him one of his inspirational speeches in some time. That, in many ways, Merlin had become just a servant again. As much as Merlin ever could be anyway.

“You were wrong though.”

“About what?”

Arthur shrugs awkwardly, his turn to stare out over the water this time. Yes, okay, Gwen has helped him be more... emotionally proficient, but still. He feels like such a girl saying it. “I always need you Merlin.”

For once, he’s grateful Merlin doesn’t turn it into a joke. He just smiles at Arthur, a pure Merlin smile that he hasn’t realised how much he’d missed.

“Thanks Arthur.”

They sit in silence for a little while, watching as the mist drifts quietly over the surface of the lake. Arthur finds himself thinking of the creatures Merlin had made out of the smoke, he almost wants to see it again, this side of his friend that had been kept secret for so many years. He turns to find Merlin looking at him. He smiles cautiously and lifts his hand, murmuring softly and the mist becomes dolphins, leaping and splashing gracefully across the waters. Arthur watches in amazement. 

Okay, it was still girly, but, he has to admit, quite spectacular.

“You were right.” Merlin looks at him curiously, “It’s properly beautiful.”

Once more Merlin breaks into that pure smile that warms Arthur inside. He finds himself smiling back and realises with a start that this is also what he’s missed with Merlin, not just the banter, but the moments of complete and earnest honesty, where he didn’t have to hide his feelings behind some polite or masculine front, however much he might feel more comfortable doing so. He continues musing to himself, watching as the mist creatures change from dolphins to otters, to small fish and, eventually, into a whale that breaches and collapses back down into a fine spray that dusts across their hair and faces. Suddenly something occurs to him.

“Are those your children?”

Merlin, busy shaping the mist, chokes on a laugh as he turns to Arthur.

“I may be a powerful warlock, Arthur, but even I would have difficulty raising a five year old child in three years.”

For some reason that’s a relief.

“They’re some of the local druid children, their parents like them to come and visit occasionally.” Merlin shrugs, “They’re a lot of fun, and Freya loves kids.”

Ah yes, Freya.

“How did you meet her?”

Merlin’s eyes look pained and he rubs the back of his neck again. “It’s ah, it’s rather a long story. I might tell you sometime but... Maybe not today.”

Arthur is curious, but decides not to press it.

“You’ll have to tell me these things eventually.”

Merlin nods, “I will Arthur, I promise just... Not today.” He gives him a small smile, “It’s just... It’s good to see you again Arthur.”

“It’s good to see you too Merlin.”

He wants to ask if Merlin will come back, now that Arthur knows. He could be a court sorcerer, not just a servant. He probably will ask, before they leave, but at the same time, he feels bad depriving Merlin of all this. The lake, the cottage, Freya, the sense of peace and freedom Merlin seemed to feel here.

“I meant what I said Arthur, if you want me to come back you just have to say the word.”

“You could leave all this? Freya?”

Merlin sighs, his eyes old and mournful. “Freya would understand. She would wait for me.”

Arthur opens his mouth, but senses in the set of Merlin’s shoulders and jaw that he doesn’t want any more questions. So he just nods.

“We don’t have to have that conversation yet.”

Merlin gives him a grateful look, then stands up and smiles. “Come on, I’ll show you around the lake. There’s some really pretty flowers around this side.”

Arthur rolls his eyes but starts to follow Merlin all the same. “I see Freya hasn’t stopped you from being such a girl Merlin.”

“Women appreciate men who are in touch with their feminine side, just ask Gwen.” He follows this up with a grin, “Wish I could say being King of Albion has stopped you being such a clotpole sire.”

Arthur attempts to wrestle him into a headlock, but Merlin just ducks away laughing. “Edward would never treat me like this.” Arthur bemoans tragically.

“Edward?” Merlin raises an eyebrow, “That’s who you went with?”

“You’re the one who included him in the line-up!”

Merlin shakes his head. “Disgraceful. The two things I ask. Don’t be a prat, and don’t get a bootlicker. And what does he do?”

A bird beside Merlin twitters, Arthur could almost swear, in sympathy.

“Exactly.” Merlin nods to it.

Arthur raises an eyebrow incredulously, “Are you complaining about me to a _bird_?”

“Birds are excellent conversationalists.” Merlin says defensively.

“You really need to get out more.” Arthur mutters.

“I heard that.”

Something splatters on Arthur’s armour.

“More to the point, so did he.”

They walk around the lake for a while, Merlin showing Arthur various things, pointing out flowers and plants, and talking a million miles a minute. Arthur just smiles fondly, he might not care too much for botany, but there’s something endearing about Merlin’s excitement, and, he realises, how free Merlin seems to feel here.

They stop in a field of flowers.

“Here I want to show you something.”

“A field of flowers Merlin? Really?”

“Oh shut up.”

“You can’t-”

“Talk to someone more powerful that way?” Merlin is watching him with a sideways grin. Arthur grumbles but keeps silent as Merlin turns to the field and whispers a few words. As Arthur watches, the flowers rise up and begin to... dance?

“I’ve always loved this about magic.” Merlin says softly from behind him, and Arthur hadn’t even realised he was walking toward the maelstrom of petals, “I mean, it’s helpful to be able to make branches drop on bandit’s heads or make sure griffin’s don’t kill the future king but,” he smiles up at the flowers circling overhead, “I love that it can be beautiful.”

For a moment Arthur's tempted to call Merlin a girl again, but instead he just looks up at the swirling petals. "Yes," he says, "It really can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first time posting, so if you have any feedback I'd be grateful :)
> 
> I mainly just wanted to write this because I was re-watching the show, and noticed how when Merlin's using his magic just for the sake of it, it's often to do or create something beautiful, so I kind of liked the idea of him having a place to create things and enjoy it.


End file.
